


Ceremony

by silentdescant



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: BDSM, Collars, Commitment, Dom/sub, M/M, Oaths & Vows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 23:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13110480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: A collaring ceremony that feels like a wedding.





	Ceremony

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, here's some emotional kink. <3

Scott directs him to undress, and Mitch does so slowly but without any finesse, sliding his shorts down to his ankles and stretching his sweater over his head. He folds them haphazardly and shoves them to the side, out of sight around the corner of the bed. Scott won’t care. His gaze is focused on Mitch, and his fingers are tight around the white box in his lap.

Once Mitch is standing naked before him, Scott gets to his feet and clutches the box against his belly. He’s still fully dressed, and he’s gripping it so tightly that it’s rucking up his shirt a little. Mitch stops himself from reaching out to smooth the wrinkles.

Scott laughs softly. “This is weird.”

“Weird?”

“So formal,” he murmurs. “Feels like we’re getting married, but we’re the only ones here.”

“This is basically our wedding,” Mitch says with a teasing roll of his eyes.

Scott licks his lips. “I don’t want this to be awkward.”

It’s clear he doesn’t know how to make it not-awkward. Mitch leans up and kisses him quickly, a brief, wet slide of their lips together. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “You don’t have to say anything. I love you. I want this.”

“I want you,” Scott replies. His eyes are closed, Mitch suddenly notices. He watches Scott sigh, watches those blue eyes blink open again. His pupils are blown dark with arousal. The awkwardness is gone. Scott looks down his nose at Mitch and says, “I want you on your knees.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before Mitch is sliding down to his knees at Scott’s feet. He keeps his chin raised, his eyes on Scott as the distance between their faces grows. He knows Scott loves to see him this way, his upturned face and adoring eyes. Mitch moves his hands around his back automatically, clasps his right around his left wrist. Waiting.

“I don’t have a speech,” Scott says. He finally moves the box, lifting the lid with one hand and holding the base with the other. It’s out of Mitch’s sight; he can’t see the contents yet. “I don’t need to tell you what this means to me. You know what kind of commitment this is. You know how much I want you. How much I love you.”

“I do.”

“This isn’t a wedding,” Scott continues. “These aren’t vows. That’s something I want from you in the future. Not now. Right now, all I want from you, all I need, is for you to wear this collar tonight, and whenever I please. Whenever you want it. Whenever we can. I want you to be mine, and I want this to remind you that your body isn’t yours. It’s mine. Every breath you take, when you feel this constricting around your throat, I want you to be reminded of me, reminded that I own those breaths. That you’re mine, inside and out.”

“I want that too,” Mitch whispers. His eyelashes flutter as he imagines the tightness of the collar around his neck as he swallows, as he eats, as he sleeps.

Scott finally takes it out of the box. It’s the first time Mitch has seen it, the coil of black leather and silver fastenings, the heavy, industrial-looking D-ring and the small letters imprinted on the leather. He wants to know what it says, what Scott deemed important enough, or symbolic enough, to have printed.

Scott turns the outside of the leather band toward him.

_protected ∙ cherished ∙ owned_

Mitch loses his breath as Scott says, “These are for me.” Scott then turns the collar around, showing Mitch the inside, where, to Mitch’s surprise, more words are inscribed.

_trust ∙ love ∙ obey_

“These are for you,” Scott tells him. “Reminders, for both of us, of what this means. What we mean to each other.”

It sounds an awful lot like wedding vows to Mitch. He nods as tears spring to his eyes. He wants to say _I do_. Instead, he says, “Will you put it on me, please?”

Scott licks his lips and holds the collar open. “Do you like it?” he asks.

 _I do_. “Yes.”

Scott drops to his knees in front of Mitch, putting their faces at similar heights while he stretches the collar around Mitch’s throat. Scott leans his head to the side as he feeds the tongue through the buckle, biting his lip absently in concentration. Mitch stares at the soft lines of his face, fascinated by the care Scott is showing. Scott tucks one finger beneath the buckle and latches it. He doesn’t ask if it’s too tight. Mitch won’t be able to forget he’s wearing it, but it’s not too tight. It’s a constant, unavoidable reminder every time Mitch swallows.

 _Protected_ , Mitch thinks. _Trust_.

He breathes harshly for a moment, getting accustomed to the feel of the collar’s restriction. Scott gets to his feet and lets him have this time to adjust. Then he leans down and takes Mitch’s face in both hands, tilting him up for a deep, plundering kiss. Mitch can feel Scott’s eagerness, the way Scott’s tongue pushes into his mouth like he can’t get enough of Mitch’s taste. Mitch gives over to the intensity, opens for Scott with a satisfied moan. Scott reacts by biting him, but not even a half second later, he’s soothing the sharp nip with gentle, careful kisses, slowly withdrawing until their mouths are a few inches apart and Mitch is panting and dazed.

 _Cherished_. Scott does cherish him. Treasures him and worships him and cares for him. And Mitch wants to rip his heart open to show Scott all of the feelings inside that are so hard for him to convey, how grateful he is, how much he’s devoted to Scott in return. _Love_. 

“I love you,” he whispers. He can’t hold it in. It makes Scott smile. Mitch mirrors him helplessly.

“Get up on the bed,” Scott says softly. “I’m not going to tie you tonight, not unless you really need it. But I want you spread out and still for me, baby. My little plaything. I want to take my time with you.”

Scott reaches down and slips his index finger into the D-ring at Mitch’s throat. He tugs it firmly, giving Mitch no time to dither before getting to his feet. _Owned_ , Mitch thinks with a grin, even as the collar pinches at the back of his neck.

Mitch spreads out on the bed, hands and feet stretched to each corner where Scott usually cuffs him. It’s strange to not having the bindings holding him in place. It’s a struggle to keep still as he watches Scott undress.

He closes his eyes and swallows in anticipation, and the collar digs in as his Adam’s apple bobs. He’s naked but for this one strip of leather. Less than he normally wears but also more. _Obey_ , it says against his skin. Mitch lets out a relieved sigh. The collar is more meaningful and just as powerful as any cuffs holding him in place.

When Mitch opens his eyes again, Scott’s waiting by the bed, staring down at him with predatory eyes and a smug grin. Mitch sees his gaze drop to the collar.

Scott’s grin sharpens, showing teeth. “Give me your body and your mind.”

“Take them,” Mitch says. “I’m yours.”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
